My Immortal
by YouThinkYouNoeMe
Summary: The presence of a loved one lingers after their death...


**MY IMMORTAL (lyrics from the Evanescence song)**

I'm so tired of being here 

_Suppressed by all my childish fears_

_And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just bleed_

_Cause your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone_

The young woman walked into the bedroom of her spacious Florida home.  Throwing herself onto the bed, she felt the tears pressing at her eyes.  It had been almost three weeks.  She just couldn't take it, couldn't accept that the love of her life was gone.  But he was… he was gone and he was never coming back.  She turned on her side, grabbing the picture off the nightstand.  It was of the two of them, at Jay's wedding.  God, he looked so handsome, all dressed up for one of best friends' big day.  She couldn't wait until the day they got married… a day she knew now would never come. A single tear slid down her cheek as she forced herself to put the picture down.  After that first tear escaped her eye, there was no stopping the rest of them.  They just flowed and flowed.  She couldn't help it… it just hurt so bad.  The pain was just so intense since his… she couldn't even bring herself to think the word 'death.'  Sniffling loudly, she stood, stumbling into the bathroom.  She leaned over the sink, clinging to it so tightly that her hands were turning white.  She cursed silently as she looked at herself in the mirror.  Her hair was a mess, her eyes were swollen, her nose was red… she was a wreck.  She tried to tell herself time and time again that soon enough it would be okay.  He could come home and hold her and make everything better.  _But he can't come home, he's dead,_ she thought bitterly.  She felt the anger coursing through her, growing rapidly by the minute.  Why the hell shouldn't she be?  She was mad at him for leaving her, mad at herself for not being able to accept that he was gone, mad at that damn drunk driver who knocked his car off the road.  If he hadn't died instantly she would have killed him herself.  She felt the tears coming again, so she shut off the bathroom light and went back into the bedroom.  She climbed back in bed, pulling the covers up over her head and curling into a fetal position, hoping that the sadness would end soon.

These wounds won't seem to heal 

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

But you still have… all of me 

Later that night the girl sat on the couch in the living room, watching his old wrestling tapes.  Whether he was in WCW or WWE, playing a heel or a face, he was always entertaining.  He went out there night after night and put an amazing show on every time.  That was one of the things that really attracted her to him… his drive and his dedication.  He would go out and put on the best damn show possible for the fans, no matter what he felt like personally.  And then, he came home each week for a two day break.  It was her favorite time of the week.  Not only did she get to see him, she got to see HIM, the real him.  He showed her sides of himself that he didn't show anyone, and she loved him for it.  Once he got home and was in the safety of their house, he was no longer the cocky, arrogant superstar that the fans knew him as.  He was a gentle, caring, and compassionate man.  There was so much more to him than people got to see on a weekly basis through watching him on Raw.  While most people saw him as some primadonna wannabe rock star, he was really a very deep person.  He thought and analyzed things in life constantly, his brain at work 24-7.  A small smile crept to her face as she watched him in the ring, making fun of the people.  That was a constant part of his routine, going out and busting on the crowd.  She knew that he had to do that, otherwise the people would be cheering their heads off for him, and that wasn't what Vince McMahon wanted.  He had the perfect hell persona… he was cocky, rude… but still a hell of a wrestler, the kind of guy people love to hate.  Her smile faded when she realized that she would never be able to see him in the ring again.  She thought back to the episode of Raw after he died.  They had done a big memorial, just like the one they had done for Owen Hart.  Seeing all the pictures and videos of him, hearing all the Superstars talk about him as they fought tears, hearing the crowd chant his name… it really touched her.  She recalled what Adam Copeland, one of his best friends, had said about him.  

_"He's the kind of guy you won't be able to forget, no matter how hard you try.  He was funny, amazingly smart, and one of the best friends a guy could have.  One thing about him that people don't seem to realize is that he's fiercely loyal… once you break down those initial walls, he'd take his life for you.  All I can think about is how much he'll be missed, and how much we all loved him…"_

The tears sprang to her eyes again, and she had to turn the tape off.  She scowled as she noticed that her TV was now on a comedy channel.  A stand up comic was on the screen, and the crowd was cracking up as he told them a joke.  She didn't understand how people could laugh when the world was so empty.  Well, her world was anyway.  She didn't think she could ever laugh again, at least not sincerely.  Her world was taken from her in an instant.  The man she'd laughed with, cried with, and told her deepest secrets too was dead.  He didn't die from a taking a horrible bump, he didn't die of a disease… he died because of a drunk driver.  A stupid drunk that didn't know when he'd had enough to drink.  She laid back on the couch, biting her lip to try and stifle her sob, but it didn't work.  She grabbed the pillow she had brought downstairs with her, clutching it tightly as she let the tears overcome her yet again.

You used to captivate me, with your resonating mind And now I'm bound by the life you left behind 

_Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams_

_Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have… all of me_

Four days later, the woman still hadn't left the house.  Jay's wife Denise had brought her food from the grocery once, so she didn't have to go herself.  Still, it wasn't like she was in the mood to eat.  How could she think about eating?  Now she was sitting on the floor of their… her living room, a large cardboard box in front of her.  It was a box that she kept for years, containing a bunch of memorabilia from their relationship.  Pictures, scrapbooks, and souvenirs from the trips he'd taken her on.  She didn't know why she continued to look at these things when they only made her feel even more horrible than before.  She leaned back slightly, covering her eyes as the tears slipped out of them yet again.

"You know, looking at all those pictures of him isn't going to bring him back," a voice called from the door, causing her to jump.  Turning around, she saw Jay standing in the doorway.

"I… I know Jay.  I just…"

"You have to stop dwelling honey.  I know how much it hurts you to think about him being gone, but it'll get better, trust me," he said, walking over and sitting down next to her.  He had just gotten home after being on the road for a few days.  Man, it was still so different traveling without him.  It was taking a lot of getting used to.

"How can you tell me to stop dwelling Jay?!  He's DEAD!  How am I ever going to get over this?" she cried, tears sliding down her cheeks.  He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him as she began to sob loudly.

"I don't know honey, but you will.  I'm so sorry," he said soothingly, rocking her back and forth.

Sniffling, she spoke again, "I… I guess I just have to accept that he's gone."

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone 

_But though you're still with me,_

_I've been alone all along_

Packing up the box, the young woman got out her packaging tape, stretching it across and sealing the box shut.  She slid the box over to the basement door, opening it.  Walking down the steps, she carried the box down and placed it on a table against the wall.  She sighed as she felt another tear slide down her cheek.  Jay was right.  She had to stop dwelling.  No matter how hard it was, or how much it hurt, she was going to have to move on.  She knew that he wouldn't want her to be living this way.  Walking back up the steps into the living room, she shut off the basement light.  As she made her way back onto the couch, she noticed she had missed a picture.  It was a promotional picture of him, shot by WWE photographers.  She half smiled as she admired the photo, running her finger over his features.  She reopened the basement door, going down the steps once more.  She placed the picture on top of the box, the box that contained all she had left of him… memories.  She sighed loudly, turning away.  She climbed back up the steps.  Once she reached the top, she turned back and looked at the picture, blowing it a kiss as she turned the light out.

"I love you, Chris."

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears 

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have… all of me_


End file.
